Childish
by MadInsaneLoveable
Summary: Jack is still suspended from his weather duties and it's driving him crazy which ends with him getting in trouble by Pitch. Pitch is sick of Jack's childish ways and lets him know. Jack doesn't like being called childish. He will do anything to prove how mature he can be.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes:** Hey guys, another RotG fic but this one is a little lighter. Jack doesn't like being called 'Childish' even if it's true. And especially not by the one he adores the most. He will do something drastic just to prove Pitch wrong. Also, in this chapter, Pitch has mood swings really quickly. Anyway, enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. All rights go to the original and rightful owners.

**Rating:** T for slight violence

**Edit:** Just me coming though and editing. I'm not sure if I entirely like this story but... I guess I'll keep it up

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**Childish**

Jack didn't like being cooped up. He was desperate to go out and use his powers. Not that they would work, he was still 'suspended from his winter weather duties' as Pitch had told him. Yes, he had to hear that from Pitch. The older man tried to be sympathetic but his kindness only went so far. He was starting to get fed up with the child. Anyway, the point was none of his weather changes were permanent; Mother Nature could reverse them. He knew he was being irresponsible and he couldn't blame her or Manny or the Guardians for being disappointed and angry. They didn't even speak to him anymore really.

All these thoughts were buzzing in his mind as he continued to speed around the dark halls; desperate to do something. To go out and create a snow storm or to coat the streets with ice. He entered Pitch's grand library. Well, it wasn't really a library. Just a large room with selves of old books and some dusty furniture. Jack half expected to find Pitch in there, reading a book for centuries ago. That's another reason he liked this room; it was filled with books from his time. He even remembered reading some back when he was human.

"Jack!"

He turned to the voice, finding nothing. Before he could stop himself, he crashed right into one of the shelves. Jack, as well as a dozen books, tumbled to the hard floor. His staff flew from his hand as he instinctively reached his arms out to catch himself; it didn't do much. He groaned and sat up, feeling dizzy. The room spun as he glanced around. The shadows circled around him until they rose up and Pitch stepped out of them. He didn't look impressed.

"Jack, what were you doing flying around so fast? You could have broken something!" the Nightmare King snapped.

"Just every bone in my body." Jack groaned, rubbing his arm and wincing.

Pitch grabbed his wrist and yanked him up. "Oh, believe me, you'll have more than broken bones if you don't come up with an explanation in ten seconds." He warned, eyes blazing dangerously.

The winter spirit gulped, trying to pull his arm free with no luck. "I, uh...was just bored..." he stammered.

"Oh, so you decided to destroy my book collection?" The older man asked sarcastically. "Most of these are original copies!"

"Then let go of my arm so I can pick them up instead of complaining about it!" Jack immediately regretted saying that.

Pitch narrowed his eyes before reluctantly letting go; deciding to let that one slide. Jack rubbed his wrist before reaching down to pick up the books. Pitch was right; they were original and definitely old. He looked at the title of one and laughed.

"What is so funny?"

"You have a copy of Alice in Wonderland?" Jack snickered.

"First of all, the title is _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_. And second, Charles Lutwidge Dodgson is a brilliant author." Pitch stated, snatching the book off him.

Jack took the book back, looking at the cover. "Um, I'm pretty sure Lewis Carroll wrote the Wonderland books."

Pitch rolled his eyes. "You are so foolish, Jack, Lewis Carroll is only his pen name." He took the book of the young spirit.

"Sorry I'm not a nerd like you." He picked up another book.

The Bogeyman growled; he wouldn't let that slide. "Why you ignorant little –," he grabbed Jack by the throat and lifted him off the ground, slamming him into the wall. "I can't believe you have the nerve to insult me. Especially after the mess you've made!"

Jack tried to pry free of Pitch's tight grip but he was too strong. He didn't have his staff either and he couldn't. Coughing and gulping, he lowered his head and waited for Pitch to let go. He wasn't going to argue. He wasn't going to fight. He knew he had gone too far and knew he needed to be punished. What he did was wrong and he didn't want to upset Pitch in and way. It sounded awful but it was the only way to calm Pitch down.

"I'm s-sor-ry," he gasped out quietly.

Pitch closed his eyes. He was in no mood for Jack today. Honestly, he just wanted some peace but that was nearly impossible with the Winter Spirit speeding around. Jack was young, both mentally and physically. He had only been a Spirit for about three hundred years and even then he was only a teenager. He remembered the boy saying he was close to eighteen. So youthful it was surprising. Children couldn't be trusted with powers like Jack's; it was amazing he hadn't had them taken away many years ago. He spent most the time flying around, pretending to play with the kids and tried to act like he didn't care he was alone.

Now, he was trembling – and running out of air – under his strong grasp. He was turning blue, which was surprising and oddly amusing to Pitch. Jack had a body temperature that was in the minuses and his skin was healthy looking, pale but not too ghostly. Yet when he was running out of breath, he was a shade of indigo. Actually, he was more of a purple but he still wasn't struggling. He hadn't even looked up from the ground.

Pitch sigh, realising Jack was trying to grovel and dropped him. He knew the teen wasn't meaning to get on his nerves - he just couldn't help himself. Jack was now on all fours, trying to be quiet as he gasped for air. He was so relieved to have oxygen flowing in and out of his lungs. The room spun yet again and he tried to stand though it was clear he was going to fall back down.

Just as the floor seemed to fly towards him, Pitch grabbed his arm and pulled him upright. Jack wound his arms around the Nightmare King but when he heard a noise of discomfort, he let go quickly. He knew better than to annoy him any further.

"Jack..." Pitch drawled out slowly.

"Um, yes?" Jack asked meekly.

Pitch took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Please don't aggravate me like that, little snowflake." He said formally. "It's not as though I enjoy hurting you."

Jack knew he did but didn't say anything about it. "I'll try." He grimaced.

"I know it's hard for you, what with you being so childish and -,"

"_Childish_?" Jack felt an angry, yet still icy, blush rise to his cheeks.

"Well, yes, you are." Pitch continued.

Jack jumped up, glaring the older man. "I am not!" he growled.

Pitch rolled his eyes. "This isn't proving anything, pet." He noted dryly.

"Just because you're boring and moody doesn't mean I have to be!" Jack felt so hot with anger.

"Jack!" the Bogeyman snapped and Jack dropped to the ground. "I am not going to argue about this! You are childish, immature and hot-tempered even if you don't want to admit it. I am through speaking to you if you are going to act this way."

He turned to leave while Jack watched, flustered. Childish? _Childish?_ He hated – absolutely loathed – it when people called him childish and quite a few had. Most North and Bunny though Tooth had said it once or twice. He was certain the Man in the Moon would have called him too if he would speak to him. Sure, he liked to have fun and was a bit disruptive, more so nowadays, so he could see where they were coming from. But they didn't have to point it out. He just liked having a good time while doing his work.

Pitch was almost at the door when he faced Jack once more. "Oh, and be and a good boy and clean up the books for me, precious." He leered devilishly before leaving.

Jack narrowed his eyes. He would show Pitch that he wasn't childish, not at all.

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**Author's Notes:** Oh, Jack, what will you do? You'll have to find out in the next chapter. Hope you enjoyed and feel free to review!


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes:** Hey guys, part two of the story! In which Jack goes to the extremes to prove Pitch wrong but it doesn't last long. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. All rights go to original and rightful owners.

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**Childish – Chapter Two**

Jack opened his eyes slowly. He was alone in his bed, tangled in the dark sheets. He did sleep much last night; too busy thinking about how to act proper. Sitting up in his bed, he yawned and stretched. How in the Moon was he going to act proper? His family wasn't very high in society and when he became a Spirit, he constantly kept up with the culture and changing of the world. He had mostly forgotten every etiquette lesson he had learned. How was he supposed to act mature? He wasn't around any adults besides Pitch.

He jumped out of bed with an idea. Carefully, he snuck into Pitch's room, which was empty, and went over to his huge closet. Over the many centuries he had been the Bogeyman, Pitch had collected a lot from around the world. Jack always teased him, calling the older man a hoarder but he liked Pitch's collection. He had ancient artifacts, paintings and sculptures, historical documents, and lots clothes - most of them which he more or less stole. Jack pulled the doors open and gaped at the sight. The closet was huge and looked even bigger on the inside. The garments of clothing were in all sorts of size, colours and materials, sorted by what Jack guessed was the date they were from. He recognized something from his time and pulled it out.

It was a huge pastel pink gown with ribbons, lace and lots of pleats at on the skirt. "How did they breathe in these?" he asked himself, studying the dress. "Still, I guess it's nice."

He put it back and searched some more. He pulled out some dark blue pants. He realized they were breeches. He took them off the hanger and held them against his legs. They would fit. After some more searching, he found a grey linen shirt and a waistcoat that matched the breeches. All he needed now were some stockings and shoes, also a coat if he could find one. It was amazing that Pitch had all this. Jack grew up in the early 18th century and never owned anything this nice. He had the shoes and stockings but still couldn't find a coat that went with the blue.

Then he found it. A long, black coat that was tapered at the waist and had a high collar. Jack thought it was perfect, Pitch would love it. He started putting on all is new outfit. The shirt and waistcoat were nice and loose-fitting but the breeches and stocking were tight and was uncomfortable to walk. It didn't matter; Jack was persistent in proving Pitch wrong. He could be proper if he wanted to. No matter how hard it was to put his shoes on or how heavy the coat was.

After he was dressed, Jack already felt a little awkward. The clothes were quite thick and stuffy and difficult to move in but he hardly took notice. He walked over to the full length mirror and checked himself out. "Not bad, Frost," he winked at his reflection.

Now to find Pitch. Jack picked up his staff and tucked it under his arm, shuffling out the room. Giving up, he lifted off the ground and jumped from path to path. He tried slicking his hair back but quickly gave up. It was like his hair had frozen that way, no pun intended. He found Pitch in the library, reading. Of course, Jack internally groaned. Pitch hadn't noticed him. Going over what he would say in his head, he set his feet on the ground and strode in.

Pitch looked up. "Good morn..." he stopped and stared.

"Why, good morning, Pitch." Jack greeted, bowing slightly. "Lovely day, is it not?"

The Nightmare King was silent, captivated by the spirit before him. Jack thought this was a good sign.

Until Pitch burst out laughing. "What in the Moon are you wearing, Jack?" he gasped out.

"I am wearing garments from the early 18th century." The teen continued smartly.

"You got the clothes from my room, didn't you?" Pitch raised an eyebrow.

Jack nodded and the other armchair across the room, next to Pitch's. He set his staff down and sat down and gracefully as he could, trying to mimic the older man.

He noticed and rolled his eyes. "Give it up, pet, you couldn't act mature if your life depended on it."

"I will have you know I can act very mature."

"Right." Pitch didn't look up from his book. "By the way, you never put the books away yesterday."

Oh. He had completely forgotten about the books. Biting he lip, he decided to steer the conversation off him. "So, what book are _you_ reading?"

Pitch lifted the book to show him the cover. "_Alice's_ _Adventures in Wonderland_." He grinned.

Jack tried not to roll his eyes. "Ah, an excellent choice. Charles, er, something Dodgson is a brilliant author." He declared.

"Yes, exactly what I told you yesterday." Pitch noted dryly, going back to his novel.

The winter spirit frowned. What did Pitch from him? He was trying really hard, maybe too hard, to act grown-up. It obviously wasn't working. He needed a new tactic. What did people do back then? Just sit and talk? Boring. What about horse riding? He remembered how much his sister liked to ride horses. If only he had some now. Unless...

"May we go for a ride on your Nightmares?" Jack asked.

Pitch closed his book and narrowed his eyes at younger boy. "Are you serious?" he was suspicious. "You never want to ride them – you don't want to go near them. In fact, you hate them and they don't exactly like you."

Jack frowned. "Well," he started slowly. "I have decided to change my mind."

"I'm not letting you ride my Nightmares."

Jack knew it was final. He stood up angrily and began to leave. This was the stupidest idea he ever had. Of course Pitch would never take him seriously.

"Jack!"

He didn't turn around.

"Jack, I'm look at me when I'm talking to you!" Pitch snapped.

Jack sighed and turned to face the Bogeyman and saw the very irritated look on his face. "I'm...um, I am sorry, Pitch." He muttered.

"You aren't proving to be very mature." Pitch sneered, almost tauntingly.

"I am!" Jack cried before looked down, officially giving up. Pitch was right; he couldn't act mature even if his life depended on it. All he was dress up and act like a fool. He would have laughed as his own behaviour if he didn't feel so embarrassed.

Pitch looked at him pointedly. "Why are you trying so hard?" he walked over to Jack and tilted his chin up. "You can't be very comfortable in those clothes."

Jack shrugged. Pitch let out a low chuckle and pulled Jack's dark coat off. "It is rather nice, don't you think?" the older man asked him. "I like it."

"That's why I chose it." Jack gave a weak smile.

"Jack, go get changed. Honestly, besides the coat, I must prefer your awful hooded jumper over this." Pitch told him. "And, you can act mature; you do a lot of the time. I know you don't like your suspension but be thankful the Man in the Moon didn't revoke your powers all together. You're special, you were the last and the youngest spirit to be chosen. Plus, you're mine and I why would I want a little plaything that isn't special? You're my treasure, darling child."

The teen laughed. "Thanks, Pitch." He wrapped his arms around him.

"Anytime, precious." He pressed a kiss to Jack's forehead.

After Jack gotten changed out of his stuffy clothes and back into his hoodie, he went to back to the library. Only to find an empty room. He searched around and finally saw Pitch walking around the main cave. The small amount of light from the cracks above shown down and gave everything a luminous glow.

"Whatcha doing?" Jack asked him.

"I see you've gone back to your colloquial formalities." Pitch said wryly.

"Trust me, I'm done with that. I kept it up for what, five minutes? Do you know how boring it was?" the winter spirit exclaimed.

Pitch clicked his tongue. "After you went through all the trouble to steal my clothes, too."

"I'll have you know that I returned them. Besides, it's not like you'll even were them." Jack scoffed.

"True point." Pitch nodded before sighing and turning to Jack. "The weather's wonderful tonight; Mother Nature's doing a superb job."

"Traitor!" Jack gasped.

Pitch laughed and melted away into the shadows. "How long did it take you to figure that out, snowflake?"

The shadows reached out and pulled Jack into the darkness. Pitch appeared and grabbed Jack by the waist. "I like you just the way you are. Childish or not."

"I'm not. Besides, I think you like it about since you've never had fun in your life. You need someone like me to balance it out!" Jack explained logically.

"I'll balance you out!"

Jack flew up into the air, throwing snow at Pitch, who growled, wiping it off in disgust. Jack dissolved into a fit laughter and Pitch couldn't help but smile. Some things never change.

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**Author's Notes:** Ah, Jack, such a child you are. Anyway, I hope you liked it. Leave a review and have a nice day!


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